


The Bite of Intent

by BonitaBreezy



Series: A Taste of Your Blood in my Mouth [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Complete, M/M, Vampire AU, but not really, he's fine, technically character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 16:25:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BonitaBreezy/pseuds/BonitaBreezy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a few years of being Marked, Clint decides he wants Phil to Change him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bite of Intent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kisleth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kisleth/gifts), [gwynhefar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwynhefar/gifts).



> Quite a few people asked for more from this verse, and this fic practically wrote itself today, so I guess your wish is my command.  
> Both the title of the 'verse and the work itself were thought of by the wonderful and talented Kisleth, to whom I owe my eternal devotion.

The TV was playing Buffy the Vampire Slayer when Phil got home, and he couldn’t help but smile at that.  As wrong as they were about vampirism in general, he still rather enjoyed it, and Clint loved it.  In the few years since they had started their relationship, Phil was fairly sure they’d watched every piece of vampire media ever released to the public.  Some of it was good and some of it was painfully bad, but all of it made Clint grin and ask a million questions that usually ended up in them sharing information about their lives before they knew each other.  Phil couldn’t begrudge Clint’s fascination, because it helped to bring them closer together in the end.

“Hey babe,” Clint greeted from his position sprawled across the couch. “How was work?”

“All right,” Phil answered, entering the kitchen and raising his voice a bit more so Clint could hear him. “Mostly boring.  Meetings with Nick and firearms training with the probies.  I almost got shot.  Guy talked with his hands, and didn’t see the problem in doing that with a gun in his hand.”

“Wow,” Clint snorted, and Phil really appreciated the exasperation he could hear in Clint’s voice.  It was amazing how clueless probies could be sometimes, particularly if they’d been recruited as civilians rather than from the military.

“Yeah.  Have you had dinner yet?” he asked.  The lack of any dishes soaking in the sink said that he probably hadn’t.  Phil opened the refrigerator and began poking around, looking for his stash of blood.  Clint was constantly moving things when he looked for food, and Phil had long since given up on trying to convince him to put things back where he found them.

“Nah,” Clint answered. “I ordered a pizza though.  Shouldn’t be long until it gets here.  Sausage and peppers.”

Phil hummed in appreciation.  He liked to eat real food, even if it didn’t actually do anything for him nutritionally.  Honestly he would probably only have one slice, just to taste it, but he liked that Clint thought of what he would like when he ordered.  He finally located his blood bags (stuck in the crisper) and grabbed out a bag of O Neg.  He cut open the bag, dumped it into a mug (something that always made Clint grin), and popped it into the microwave.

He joined Clint in the living room when his food was ready, pushing Clint’s feet off the end of the couch so he could sit, only to have Clint pop his feet back up and into Phil’s lap as soon as he was seated.  Phil wrapped one hand around Clint’s ankle and took a long drink from his mug.  Clint wiggled a bit, getting comfortable, and Phil tried to figure out which episode they were watching.  It  was clearly early in the show, season one or two, but he couldn’t really remember what episode it was.

It became clear after a few minutes though.  It was the episode with the guy who wanted to become a vampire because he was dying, and the group vampire wannabes.  Phil wasn’t one to begrudge his existence and lament about how much better it would be to be human, because he wasn’t actually sure that he believed that, but he could understand Angel’s frustration.  Becoming something else didn’t disappear all your problems, it only made them different.

“Hey,” Clint said suddenly when the show went to commercial. “If I asked you to make me like you, would you do it?”

Phil almost choked on his blood in surprise, but he managed to swallow it without spitting any of it back up.  He set the mug down on the coffee table and turned to look fully at Clint, stroking the skin at Clint’s ankle with his fingertips.  He swiped his tongue over his lips to remove any traces of blood that might have been left there.  If he was going to have one of the stereotypical vampire conversations, it might as well not be with blood staining his mouth.

“I didn’t think you’d want it,” Phil answered honestly. “I’ve had agents ask about it before, but you never seemed interested.”

“I don’t know,” Clint shrugged. “I didn’t, for a long time.  But, you know, I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.  Eternity is a really long time, yeah, and I never really had a reason to want that before.  But I do now, and I’m not getting any younger…”

“Clint,” he interrupted, treading carefully.  He didn’t want to run right over what Clint was saying and feeling just to make his point.  He wasn’t in the business of trying to make people feel stupid or inferior, particularly people who were as important to him as Clint was. “I hope you don’t think you have to be like me to stay with me.  I’m not going to leave you when you get older.  I’ll stay with you until you die, if that’s what you want from me.”

“That’s really sweet and Twilight of you, Phil,” Clint simpered at him, batting his eyelashes.

Phil snorted and pushed Clint’s feet off his lap. “You’re such an asshole.”

“I don’t want to get old and die and leave you behind.  I’m in love with you and I want to be with you for as long as I can, forever if that’s even possible.  But it’s not all about you either, you know.” Clint looked down at his hands for a moment, and then seemed to think better of it and looked Phil full in the face, like he was trying to prove that he was serious.  He looked thoughtful for a moment, like he was trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to.

“I’m only human,” Clint started again after a few minutes of silence. “And all my life, that’s been okay.  It’s not like I hate being human or think I’m going to transcend to some mystical higher level if you change me.”  He nodded at the television, where Chanterelle was simpering about becoming a “Lonely One”. “It’s just that, everything I do, I do for other people. All I want to do is help people, and I do that now.  But I’ve been injured a lot, and I’m getting older.  I’m starting to feel it, you know?  And one day I’m going to wake up and realize that I can’t draw my bow anymore, or that my eyesight is going, and then I won’t be useful anymore, and I won’t be able to help, and I don’t think I can cope with that.”

“So...you want to be turned so that you can continue working with SHIELD.  Possibly forever,” Phil recounted.

“Well, and because I love you,” Clint said, shooting him a shy smile. “I know it’s kind of stupid, because everyone gets old and can’t do the things they used to.  But I’m not like most people.  I do important work, and I’m good at it.  If I have the resources available to me to continue doing that work, why wouldn’t I?”

“Forever is a very long time, Clint,” Phil warned him. “I know you think you understand, but you don’t, and I can’t really explain it.  Years start to seem like minutes, after long enough, and everyone you know and love will die.  Natasha will die, and you’ll have to continue on without her.  Eventually you might forget she ever existed at all.  The years you spent together will seem like seconds.”

“Yeah, and that sucks,” Clint said. “But I have thought about that, as much as I’m able to.  This job has always been about sacrifices, and I still think it’s the right choice.  If you want to.  I mean, I get that you didn’t really sign on for forever when you Marked me…”

“Of course I did,” Phil interrupted him. “I...I’ve thought about changing you a few times, but I didn’t want to pressure you and you never seemed interested.  You never asked or brought it up, and I didn’t want to make you think that you had to choose if you didn’t want to.”

“I want to,” Clint answered, and he sounded so sure of himself that Phil couldn’t doubt him.  Maybe he didn’t quite understand what he was asking for, but Phil had to trust him to know himself and to know what he wanted with his life, or lack thereof.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll Change you, if you’re sure that’s what you want.  I’d really like that.”

“I’m sure,” Clint said firmly. “When?”

Phil was tempted, for a moment, to suggest they do it right then.  He desperately wanted the reassurance that he wouldn’t lose Clint to something so mortal and mundane as dying of old age.  Waiting a few more days likely wouldn’t make a difference, but now that it was offered up right in front of him, he didn’t want to wait.  He opened his mouth to speak, and the intercom buzzer went off.

“Ah,” Clint said. “Pizza.”  He stared at Phil forlornly for a second before he got up off the couch and went to buzz the delivery guy in.  Phil used the few minutes reprieve to put his brain back in gear.  The Change, while not anything that required pomp and circumstance, was a big decision and it would put Clint out of commission for a few days.  It would be completely irresponsible to just do it without any sort of preparation.  Besides, Phil wanted Clint to be as comfortable as possible during the process.  His own Change had taken place in the middle of the night in a back alley, completely without his consent, and sometimes he still shuddered when he thought about how disoriented and helpless he’d been.  It would be different with Clint, and Phil would absolutely make sure of that.

Clint came back to the couch and set the pizza box on the table before settling down into the cushions and tearing into a slice.  Phil took a sip from his mug, grimacing when he realized that the blood had gone cold during their talk.  He went back into the kitchen to heat it up again, trying to figure out what they’d have to do to prepare for a few days away from SHIELD.

“How about Friday?” Phil suggested when he came back into the living room.  Clint was already on his second slice of pizza and was focused intently on the show, like he wasn’t completely tense waiting for Phil’s answer.

“Friday’s good,” Clint answered nonchalantly, but his eyes had lit up happily.

“Okay, I’ll arrange things with Nick.  You might want to talk to Natasha, before we do it.  Explain your decision to her.”

“Yeah,” Clint said, looking solemn.  They both knew that Natasha would never understand why Clint would allow Phil to alter Clint’s body in such a way, not after everything she had been through.  She wouldn’t condemn him for it, but she would never understand.

“I’m glad you’ve decided to do this,” Phil said, feeling like he was baring his soul. “But, you know, if you get cold feet it’s okay.  You can tell me you’ve changed your mind, and I won’t be upset.”

“I won’t change my mind,” Clint said, nudging a piece of pizza in Phil’s direction.

“Okay,” Phil said. “But just, keep that in mind.  You can change your mind if you want to.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Clint promised.  Phil picked up the slice of pizza and took a bite.  They both sat back, satisfied.

* * *

 

Phil left SHIELD a bit early on Friday evening so that he could go home and start setting things up.  He didn’t really need anything special, but he thought it would be convenient to have things close at hand, just in case.  He’d never actually made another vampire before, and he was a little concerned about it.  He knew how it worked in theory; what he had to do and the Intent he had to put behind it, but he was still worried that he might mess it up.  If he accidentally killed Clint, he’d never ever forgive himself for it.

He bought a styrofoam cooler at the grocery store, along with plenty of ice, so that he could keep extra blood close at hand.  It would have to be Phil’s blood, the first time, but after that they would both be hungry and tired, and it would be better to have it close.  Cold blood wasn’t exactly delicious, but it would serve it’s purpose.  He’d also changed the sheets on their bed, and put down a plastic one underneath. There would be blood flowing later, and he didn’t want to ruin the sheets they used regularly, not to mention their mattress.  He spent some time fluffing the pillows and basically just fidgeting around, because there wasn’t much that he could do.  He checked at least four times to make sure he had everything he might need in the supplies that he’d taken from SHIELD, hoping that he wouldn’t need to use it.  

He was on his way to checking everything all over again when the front door opened and he heard the sound of Clint dropping his keys in the bowl on the hall table.  Phil had a sudden strange desire to straighten out his clothes, like he was a teenager getting ready for a date and wanted to look his best.  He was wearing sweats and a t-shirt, for god’s sake.

Clint entered their bedroom after a minute of shuffling around, maybe looking for Phil, and he took off his jacket and hung it in the closet like it was any other day.  Phil wondered if he was the only one who felt stupidly nervous, and he felt a bit of panic at the idea that maybe Clint trusted that he knew exactly what he was doing.  Phil wasn’t a hundred percent sure.  He’d seen it happen and he’d had it done to him, but he’d never actually done it before.  He’d never felt the need to make anyone else like him, or the desire to have anyone else around that long.  Not until Clint, at least.

“Hey,” Clint said, and he smiled warmly as he approached Phil for a kiss.  Phil couldn’t help but cling to him, and he knew he would miss the warmth that Clint always seemed to radiate more than anything else.

“Are you alright?” Clint asked when they pulled apart.  Phil didn’t let him step away, wanting to hold on for just a minute longer.

“I’m just nervous, I guess,” Phil answered honestly.  Clint was trusting him with everything.  He deserved the truth. “I’ve never done this before, and I’m afraid I’ll mess it up.”

“Hey,” Clint said softly, his hands coming up to frame Phil’s face.  He looked completely calm and soft as he met Phil’s eyes, and it helped to calm Phil down as well. “I trust you.  It will all be okay.”

“It’s not a matter of you trusting me, I know you do,” Phil insisted. “It’s just that I’m afraid I might kill you on accident and I couldn’t live with that.”

“You won’t,” Clint said. “And if I know you, you’ve got contingencies in place.”

Phil thought of the supplies he’d brought from SHIELD in the case on the bed, and he did suddenly feel a bit better.

“I...well, I did bring a transfusion kit home from medical, just in case.  If I do mess up, I’ll do everything I can to save you.”

“I know,” Clint said calmly, smirking at Phil like he was resisting the urge to say ‘I told you so’. “But you’re not going to mess it up.  It’s okay.”

“Okay,” Phil said, hoping that he sounded confident. “It’ll be okay.”

“Right.  Now, what should I do?”

“Sit down,” Phil said, gesturing at the bed, “I want to talk you through this first.”

Clint obediently sat down, and Phil paced agitatedly in front of him for a few steps.  Clint let out an amused sounding huff and gestured for Phil to join him.  It was a good call, because he relaxed a bit as soon as they were touching.

“It’s actually quite simple.  Or, it’s meant to be.  Mostly of the work lies in my intentions,” Phil explained, and Clint nodded seriously. “But basically, I bite you and drink from you.  It’s going to make you very weak and tired, but you must stay awake.  Before you get to the point where you pass out, you’ll have to bite me back and drink from me until I tell you to stop.  You might have trouble stopping, but I can stop you if I have to, so don’t worry too much about it.  You’ll pass out for a few hours while the change takes effect, and when you wake up you’ll be very hungry, but I’ve got it all under control.  You don’t need to worry about anything, okay?”

“Okay,” Clint said seriously.

“I’ll stop,” Phil said. “Before you bite me, I’ll stop and ask, and if you’ve changed your mind, that’s okay.  We can stop right there and I’ll set up a transfusion and you’ll be okay.  After you bite me back we have to keep going, but any time before that you can back out, okay?”

“I’m not going to back out,” Clint said. “But okay.  Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Phil said, feeling less shaky and anxious than he had a few minutes ago. “Why don’t you get changed into something comfortable and then we’ll get started?”

“Yeah,” Clint said, grinning.  He practically skipped towards the dresser to get a pair of pajama pants to change into.  He didn’t bother with a shirt, which was probably wise.  It would just get in the way.  Phil took off his own as well, and Clint smirked at him.

When he was ready, Phil scooted up to the head of the bed and arranged himself lying down.  He gestured for Clint to join him and arranged the other man so that he was was partially lying on Phil’s chest, set at the perfect height for them to have easy access to each other’s necks.  Clint hummed, happy and unconcerned, and pressed a kiss to Phil’s jaw.

“I love you,” he said seriously, and Phil couldn’t help but kiss him back and return the sentiment.  They kissed lazily for a few minutes, which was fine with Phil.  Eventually though, he couldn’t wait anymore.

“Are you ready?  It’s going to hurt.”

“I’m ready,” Clint said.  Phil took his word for it, extended his fangs, and latched his mouth to the left side of Clint’s neck.  Clint let out a pain-filled grunt, but his body stayed relaxed against Phil’s.  Phil focused as best as he could on making his Intent very clear.  He wanted Clint to become like him, a vampire.  He most definitely did not want him to die.  He wanted to have Clint with him forever, alive and beautiful, and never looking older than he did right at that moment.  The feeling spread through him like heat low in his belly, and he heard Clint gasp quietly, like he felt it too.

Clint’s blood was hot and salty as it gushed into his mouth, and a few times he had to remind himself that he wasn’t eating, he was Changing.  It only took a few minutes for Clint to start to go limp against him.  His breathing got shallow and his head started to droop.  A few times he seemed to force himself back awake, remembering what Phil had said.  He took another few mouthfuls, just to be sure, and then he pulled away.  Clint’s neck was bleeding freely and Phil had to resist the urge to latch back on to it.

“Okay, Clint.  This is it,” he said. “Do you want me to stop?” Clint’s skin was pale and his eyes were bleary, but he shook his head.

“No,” he murmured. “Dunstop.”

“Okay.  Come on, head up.  Are you listening?”

“M’ lis’ning.”

“Good.  You’re doing so well Clint.  I need you to bite me, okay, baby?  As hard as you can, break the skin.”  For a moment, he thought he’d taken too much and that Clint wasn’t going to be able to do it, but suddenly he seemed to gather up all his remaining strength and he sunk his teeth viciously into Phil’s neck.  It hurt like hell and it felt so very wrong to be the bitten instead of the biter, but Phil just cradled the back of Clint’s head with one of his hands and stroked at Clint’s hair calmly.  He could feel the wetness of Clint’s tongue against his neck and the stretch of his mouth, and honestly he was pretty aroused by it, but he knew he had to focus.  Clint certainly wasn’t in any state to deal with it.

He realized that he was babbling nonsense to Clint, telling him how good he was and well he was doing, and Clint was making satisfied noises as Phil’s blood filled his mouth. He let Clint drink until he started to get lightheaded, and then he gently detached the man from his neck, despite Clint’s grumbling whines.  Clint’s neck wound had healed up completely, and Phil was reassured that he had done everything properly.  Phil could hear Clint’s heartbeat slowing down as he gently laid the him down on the sheets and kissed his forehead.  Clint stared at him blearily for a moment before he passed out.  Phil waited a few minutes to make sure he was really down for the count before he retrieved a bag of blood from the cooler and bit into it.

He watched Clint while he ate, like maybe that would keep anything bad from happening.  It wasn’t very interesting.  Clint was completely still and unconscious.  Phil didn’t even realize that he’d been waiting for Clint’s heart to stop until it happened.  One moment it was beating, and the next it stopped.  Clint let out a deep whoosh of breath, and then he was dead.  Phil watched him anxiously for a few minutes, and then Clint breathed in again, and Phil heard his heart start to beat.  He let out a relieved sigh, finally positive that he’d done everything right and that everything would be okay.  Clint mumbled something in his sleep and turned onto his side, and Phil decided that it would be okay to rest a bit.  He laid back down next to Clint and fell asleep in seconds.

* * *

 

He woke up when Clint sat up next to him.  It was dark outside, and Clint was calmly staring around their bedroom like he’d never seen it before.

“I have night vision,” he said, when he noticed Phil was awake.

“You do,” Phil agreed.

“I’m starving,” he said next.

“I’m not surprised,” Phil said. “One second.”  He reached over the edge of the bed and into the cooler, pulling out the first bag he got his hands on. Clint practically lunged at it, but Phil restrained him gently.

“Hey, it’s all right, just one second.  Let me show you the best way, okay?” he said calmly, and Clint looked abashed.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m just really _really_ hungry.”

“I know.  Now, take it in one hand and squeeze the bottom so all the blood bunches up at one side.”  Clint did as he was told. “Now just bite into it.”

“Like a Capri Sun pouch,” Clint mused before sinking his newly elongated teeth into the bag.  Phil knew that things like using his fangs would come second nature, but now he was looking forward to teaching Clint the things that didn’t, like the best ways to bite into a blood bag, for example.  Clint finished the first bag in record time, and when he was done with it he made a face.

“That tasted terrible,” he told Phil seriously.

“That’s because it’s cold,” Phil told him with an amused smile. “It’s delicious when you warm it up, I promise.  I didn’t think you’d want to wait for the microwave, though.”  Clint shook his head in agreement, taking the next bag Phil offered and tearing into it quickly, despite the taste.  Phil opened up a bag for himself and drank from it slowly to replenish the rest of what he’d lost while Clint tore through two and half more bags by himself.  Phil finished up the last half of the third bag while Clint curled up with his head in Phil’s lap.

“I’m tired,” he said, though that was pretty obvious.

“I know,” Phil told him gently. “Go to sleep, it’s all right.”  He stroked Clint’s hair and face while he slept, and he couldn’t even believe his good luck.  The color had returned to Clint’s skin now that he’d eaten, and he looked healthy and beautiful, and Phil knew that he would always look just the way he did now.  He had been prepared to watch Clint age and die, and suddenly he was relieved beyond words that he wouldn’t have to.  He bent down and pressed a kiss to his Mark on Clint’s neck, and then leaned back against the headboard to get some more sleep.

* * *

 

When Phil woke again the sun was shining through the window and the alarm clock read 10:32.  He could hear the sound of the microwave dinging in the kitchen, and a minute later Clint came in with a mug in each hand.  He handed one off to Phil and kept one to himself, settling on the bed with his legs crossed.

“Hey, good morning,” Phil greeted, sitting up to drink the blood that Clint had so thoughtfully prepared for him.

“Morning,” Clint greeted cheerfully. “You’re right, this is amazing when it’s hot.”

“I told you.  How do you feel?”

“Great,” Clint answered. “Like, just better, you know? I can’t really describe it.”

“I know what you mean,” Phil said, even though his own Changing had been so long ago he didn’t really remember what it had felt like to be human. “I’m glad you’re feeling okay.”

“I’m feeling wonderful,” Clint corrected, and he leaned forward to kiss Phil happily.  He tasted like A Positive, and Phil couldn’t help licking into his mouth so that he could taste it on Clint’s tongue.

“Thank you,” Phil whispered shakily when they pulled away from each other. “Just…”

“Hey,” Clint said softly, his voice understanding. “I love you, and now we have forever.  So thank _you_.”

They kissed some more, slowly and not really heading anywhere with it, before Clint pulled away when his stomach growled.  He grimaced apologetically, but Phil only laughed and offered him the rest of his mug.  Clint drained it and the rest of his own in a few gulps, licking his lips when he was finished.

“So, what’s the first thing you want to do as the new you?” Phil asked, his smile teasing.

“Well I think the first thing I did was drink my weight in blood and pass out until morning like a drunken frat boy,” Clint snorted. “But I know what I want to do second.”

“Oh yeah?” Phil asked, quirking an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

Clint’s smile was seductive as he leaned into Phil’s space. “I want to Mark you back,” he said.

“Oh,” Phil responded breathily, his heart rate speeding up at the idea. “Yeah. Yes, please.”  

Clint looked amazingly pleased with himself, and he spared Phil a grin before he leaned closer and sunk his teeth into Phil’s neck.  

It felt amazing.


End file.
